Combat Bracer

Mark ran all the way into Yarl Forest, breathing a little heavily.

After looking around and confirming there was no one nearby, he lowered his head to look at the violet tattoo on his left wrist.

The yellowed energy bar and the ☆ within it told him this was not an illusion.

The Combat Bracer had truly traveled through with him.

"Combat Bracer!" Though he had never obtained this divine artifact himself, he had seen posts from expert players who possessed it on online forums.

The yellowed energy bar was merely the lowest grade. As for the highest grade, not only had Mark never seen it, even the top players among Fighters knew nothing about it.

The highest grade he knew of was purple ★★★★★★★.

The officials had once said that purple seven-star was not the limit of this divine artifact, but they had never revealed just how powerful its strongest form could be.

Yet the player who possessed the purple ★★★★★★★ Combat Bracer was already a server-dominating powerhouse.

The Combat Bracer had enhanced his physique to an unimaginable degree.

Although Mark did not know why the divine artifact had turned into a violet tattoo and traveled through with him, its power was absolutely unparalleled.

"Oh... right, the Devil Fruit ability..."

Mark suddenly remembered the Devil Fruit he had eaten. He still did not know which Devil Fruit he had obtained.

As he sensed the changes in his body, he gradually found a strange ripple of power.

Buzz—

"How is this possible?!" Mark stared at his right hand in shock.

A black force enveloped his right palm, corroding everything...

Then, a faint pulling force came from his palm, drawing the nearest pebble into it.

Shouldn't this power have appeared in the New World?

To verify his suspicion, Mark fully activated his Fruit power.

A burst of dark power immediately rose from his body, and his right hand, wrapped in darkness, slammed fiercely into the ground.

Crash!

Streams of dark power flowed from his palm into the ground, spreading in all directions like a black fog.

But when the darkness had spread less than ten meters, Mark felt his stamina draining rapidly and had no choice but to stop.

Looking at the sand, rocks, and trees slowly sinking and being devoured before him, delight flickered in his eyes.

"The Dark-Dark Fruit... it really is this ability..."

Blackbeard's power—the legendary most vicious Devil Fruit, the nemesis of Devil Fruit users. It possessed power like the gravitational pull of a black hole and could even strip others of their Devil Fruit powers.

He had actually obtained this legendary ability.

"Damn... that can't be right. Didn't Thatch obtain the Dark-Dark Fruit in the New World? But I'm in the East Blue..." Mark could not make sense of it.

What he did not know was that if he had not come here, the Fruit would have been obtained by the man he killed. It would then have traveled aboard the ship of the loan shark king Du Feld to the New World before eventually ending up in Thatch's hands.

But now, all of it had fallen into Mark's hands.

He looked at the violet tattoo on his left hand, then at the surging dark power in his right.

Mark suddenly wanted to burst out laughing. Zehahaha!

But he held it back. That was too Blackbeard-like, and it did not feel right.

PS: Mark: I got the Dark-Dark Fruit, so is the Tremor-Tremor Fruit still far away? I just wonder whether I can eat two Devil Fruits... (Author: He can... of course he can! If he doesn't eat the Tremor-Tremor Fruit and only eats the Dark-Dark Fruit, thirteen slots won't be enough...)

Combat Bracer, Dark-Dark Fruit...

The sudden arrival of these two powers made Mark train even harder.

He never wanted to experience the pain from years ago again.

Jaba's words—"If you don't want to be killed, then become stronger from this moment onward. Become so strong that no one in this world can ever press you down!"—became his ambition.

So, if he did not want to be killed in this world, he had only one choice: become stronger.

He swung the woodcutting axe in his hand with all his strength, chopping down tree after tree before him.

The dark power wrapped around the axe blade made the entire woodcutting axe seem sharper and more corrosive.

By evening...

"Jaba, I'm heading back!"

Mark handed Jaba some useful lumber he had gathered.

"Alright. Be careful on your way back, kid." Jaba's tone was calm, but Mark could still hear the concern in it.

Watching Mark's departing back, Jaba's eyes flickered slightly. That corpse had probably been this brat's handiwork.

But as one of Roger's former right-hand men, Jaba could still see the changes in Mark.

Mark... had become more confident...

After returning home, Mark made himself a simple dinner.

After dinner, Mark picked up his woodcutting axe and went into the yard for his daily training.

Whenever he had time, Mark trained, because he always remembered Jaba's words and never forgot his ambition.

He did not want to relive those dark days from years ago—the scene of his parents being controlled and killed by the Marines, the image of his father being forced to place him into the sea.

He could not forget the small wooden basin that had carried him adrift, nor the moment Jaba had picked him up and taken him in.

Mark's woodcutting axe sliced through the air—sweeping, slashing, chopping, hacking, lifting. Every move was unadorned, but all of them were lethally effective.

The power of the Dark-Dark Fruit burst forth unconsciously, enveloping the woodcutting axe. The entire axe seemed to have been swallowed by darkness, billowing with dense dark power.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Black afterimages streaked through the air, tearing through the wind and cleaving the sky.

By evening, the moon had quietly climbed into the sky.

Mark wearily lowered his woodcutting axe. Sweat streamed continuously down his body, and the moonlight gleamed off his muscular, sturdy physique.

After washing up, Mark checked the time and went to bed.

He still had to keep working tomorrow.

Jaba had raised him for fifteen years, but he had not spent those fifteen years living off Jaba for free.

From the age of two, he had begun working for Jaba in exchange for his chance to survive.

At first, he washed clothes. Later, he cooked and carried water, until eventually he had a small home of his own.

He learned axe techniques from Jaba, trained his body, and strengthened himself.

Everything had been earned through his own efforts. Of course, that had also been Jaba's intention. In fact, not only him—even Nell Dais, whom Jaba had also rescued, had been raised the same way.

Over fifteen years, his combat strength had not become particularly powerful, but his foundation was extremely solid.

That solid foundation gave him the qualifications to climb toward the peak. Perhaps that was how the strong of the seas were educated.

"Get to sleep early... I still need to open the shop early tomorrow."

After quietly saying goodnight to the woodcutting axe beside him, Mark closed his eyes and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

In his dream—

Fifteen years ago...

"Do you want my treasure? You can have all of it if you want it. Go find it! I left all my treasure there!"

The Pirate King Gol D. Roger's final declaration before his death set off the tide of the Great Pirate Era.

The number of pirates throughout the world surged. The older generation fell one after another, while the new generation of Four Emperors rose. The Seven Warlords of the Sea, who answered to the World Government, quietly began to emerge at this time.

"I'm truly sorry, but if you want someone to blame, blame Gol D. Roger."

Ensign Nezumi stroked his three whiskers and let out a shrill, sinister laugh. "Keh keh! If it weren't for that guy, how could I have been promoted so quickly? With your help, I believe I'll be promoted again very soon."

Rod Bavat said nothing. He held his wife tightly in his arms, his face filled with hatred.

His wife, Helvi Rose, was already crying so hard she could barely speak. She carefully whispered into Bavat's ear, "Where is our son?"

There was a trace of hope in her voice.

Bavat's voice was low. "My dear, I've already sent our precious son away."

"That's good... that's good..."

"What are you two talking about?" A lecherous voice sounded beside them.

They looked up.

Hatred flashed through Rose's eyes as she shouted, "You're a maggot destined for hell, bird droppings on a broadleaf tree, a bastard even more despicable than pirates..."

"Oh ho ho!" A trace of malice appeared on Ensign Nezumi's face. "Beautiful lady, your words have made me very angry. So I think I should give you a perfect answer..."

As he spoke, he waved to the Marines behind him.

"You, come here. Take these two to the execution platform... I hope to hear a beautiful song..."

Ensign Nezumi's tone was frivolous, but the killing intent within it made the Marine shudder. He hurriedly nodded.

Although Mark had only been around one year old at the time, he had been an adult who had traveled through worlds. Lying in the small wooden basin, he slowly drifted out to sea.

The blazing fire rising from the island, the two people tied to the burning pillars, and the agonized screams produced by the flames scorching them.

Mark knew that those were his parents—a loving couple from Cocoyasi Village. Yet Ensign Nezumi had killed them just like that, killing them as pirates.

He had been heartbroken then. That year had not been long, but the care his birth parents had given him had been deeply etched into his heart.